


It Happened One Night

by windfallswest



Category: due South
Genre: Multi, Plot What Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-28 23:43:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My favourite solution to love triangles being a threesome, this is a total, shameless post-CotW PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Happened One Night

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, I have never lived in the far north, so details fudged.

There was a knock on the door one night, which was odd, considering it was January and there had been this enormous blizzard thing going on all afternoon, or what had used to be afternoon in less arctic parts of the world. Not to mention the build-up from all the many, many, manymanymany afternoons previous which had exhibited similar conditions. And the mornings. And the nights. Last winter they'd spent in the open, doing the whole outdoors-y thing with Fraser communing or reaffirming his bond with nature or something. Kowalski learned how to walk on the snow. It was cool. Summer was work, summer was building the whole damn cabin. It seemed a lot smaller once he'd been cramped up in it two weeks past forever.

Kowalski opened the door. It took him an extra moment to recognise the nose, hidden as it was by the snow-caked scarf. He felt a brief twinge of regret that his gun was in the sock drawer instead of its holster on his shoulder and a rather longer temptation to just shut the door, but he knew Fraser too well to think he'd be able to get away with it.

"You gonna let me in or what?" Vecchio was already moving when Kowalski stepped out of the way, bumping shoulders. "I gotta hand it to you guys. You have any idea how hard it is to find a place this far up the ass-end of nowhere?"

"Ray!" Fraser's face lit up like a kid's at Christmas. Kowalski's blood went from icicle to boiling in about half a second. Fraser was _his_ , dammit. His to fuck and love and catch strange Canadian criminals with. This wasn't Vecchio's life; this was Stanley Raymond Kowalski's life and fuck-all if Vecchio had any right to show up here and reclaim Fraser like he'd reclaimed his desk. Kowalski slammed the door.

"What're you doing here?" he demanded of Vecchio's back. Fraser enveloped Vecchio in a bear hug that made Kowalski's skin crawl with jealousy. He was—he was getting snow all over the floor!

"I was in the neighbourhood." Which was ridiculous; hadn't he just finished saying he'd gone out of his way to find them? When they pulled back, it was to grin stupidly at each other. Kowalski felt like hitting something.

"Would you like some tea, Ray?" Fraser was asking. "You really should get out of those wet clothes."

"Tea's great, Benny."

Vecchio began unpeeling his insulating layers. He was still like toothpick man underneath, which annoyed Kowalski for some reason beyond his desire to comprehend. "Boots off," he ordered, just to be contrary.

"Agreeable as ever, I see," Vecchio replied. He hung his parka and scarf on a hook like he did it every day. Dief came up and nuzzled him while he was removing his mukluks.

 _Traitor_ , Kowalski mouthed. The wolf pretended not to see.

Abandoning Vecchio in the vague hope Dief would eat him when no one was looking, Kowalski sauntered over to where Fraser was preparing the tea and slung a possessive arm around his shoulders.

"Hello, Ray." Fraser brushed a quick kiss across his mouth, and hey, that was more like it.

A familiar, high-pitched whine drew Fraser's attention. Dief was still nosing at Vecchio, looking up at him with that wounded you-don't-love-me-if-you-don't-feed-me face he got.

"All right, all right, you caught me," said Vecchio, smiling as he pulled something out of his jacket. Dief jumped up and down excitedly. Vecchio shook his head. "Yeah, I thought you'd miss that." They watched Dief devour the donut, a junkie with his fix. Fraser was still smiling.

The kettle whistled, making everyone but Dief jump. "Cups, Ray?"

"Sure." Kowalski gave Fraser a quick peck on the cheek, well aware of Vecchio's eyes on them, and took three cups out of the cupboard. The cupboard was sturdy and functional, but Fraser'd carved some leaves and wild critters and things around the edges to make it look more homey. Kowalski remembered sitting by the camp fire on summer nights that never really got dark, watching Fraser whittle and letting the day's work drain out of his muscles until he'd pull Fraser down into a long, slow kiss that inevitably ended in them lying naked under the sky.

"...nice place you got up here," Vecchio was saying. "A bit bigger than the last one, yeah?"

"Indeed it is, Ray. Thank you, Ray." Fraser dropped tea-leaves into the cups and chased them with steaming water.

Vecchio hunched gratefully over his, probably trying to defrost that nose. He kept _looking_ at Fraser, but that wasn't the disturbing part. Infuriating, yes, but not disturbing. The disturbing part was how he kept looking at _Kowalski_ , appraising, like he was some experimental casserole of Francesca's Vecchio had to eat if he didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Please, sit down," said Fraser, indicating the couch. He took the other end, which left Kowaski with the armchair unless he wanted to do something undignified, not that he didn't consider it for a moment or two. "How have you been, Ray? Are you still doing police work?"

"Nah. I mean, I tried it for a while, but it wasn't the same. Besides, things are just getting weird down there. Did you know Turnbull wants to go into politics?"

" _Renfield_ Turnbull?" Fraser asked incredulously.

"Dollars to donuts the Ice Queen's behind it," Kowalski said immediately. "I always knew she wanted to rule the world."

"It would certainly seem likely," Fraser agreed. "Except perhaps the bit about world domination. Although, if Turnbull wishes his campaign to be successful, he should probably stop wearing aprons with so many frills on them when he bakes.

Vecchio's eyebrows rose. "Well, I guess we know who the man is in _that_ relationship."

Fraser choked on his tea. "Indeed."

"I so did not need the mental image of Thatcher with a strap-on, thank you very much," Kowalski protested, hiding his eyes, which were laughing.

"No charge," Vecchio replied with an insufferable grin. "How about you guys? How you keeping busy?"

Fraser flushed bright red. "I—well, I am assigned to the Old Crow Detachment of the RCMP. And Ray—Ray is, is—"

"Liaising," Kowalski supplied, leering a little. Vecchio might sound casual, which was the Vecchio equivalent of innocent, but Kowalski knew too much about the guy to buy it.

Fraser coughed uncomfortably. "Uh, yes. As a matter of fact, just last week we apprehended a trio of illegal tea smugglers."

"Of course, the Darjeeling was laced with coke."

"As a point of fact, it was China Yunnan, Ray. I prefer Assam myself."

Vecchio nodded.

"Have you eaten, Ray?"

Vecchio shook himself. "Wha?"

"I said, have you eaten?" Fraser repeated with the slightest emphasis.

"Oh. Not since lunch. We didn't stop after the snow started up."

"Who's 'we'?" asked Kowalski, snapping to attention.

"I ran into this truly ungracious guy. Wouldn't shut up. But he said he knew where the cabin was, so I went along. I was desperate. He disappeared as soon as the door opened." Vecchio shrugged.

"Adam?"

"Adam," agreed Fraser.

"Who?"

Fraser opened his mouth, then thought better of it. "It's not important. Are you hungry?"

"Starving. Just as long as it's not hairy night-crawlers," amended Vecchio.

Fraser got up and opened the trap door to the root cellar. That left Kowalski and a drowsy Vecchio nothing to do but stare suspiciously at one another. Kowalski was suspicious, anyway; Vecchio had that weird look on his face again. The warmth radiated by the wood stove was making him loose-limbed and his sweater hung on him in an expensive manner.

"He's mine, you got that?" Kowalski finally broke the silence.

He wasn't expecting it. He didn't even see Vecchio move. Just, all of a sudden there was this tongue in his mouth.

That was when Fraser came back.

"Oh. Oh dear, I—I'll just— I didn't mean to..." Kowalski took a minute to once more appreciate the truly horrifying depths of Fraser's courtesy.

"Fraser," Vecchio said in a low voice that stopped Fraser cold, and Kowalski grasped his criminal agenda. The way Vecchio was kneeling over him, he maybe should have grasped Vecchio's something-else, but then he saw the look on Fraser's face, the hesitant, burning hope. He never could say no to Fraser. And he couldn't claim that Vecchio poised over him like this wasn't getting him hard.

"Yeah, Frase, come join the party."

Throwing a cheeky smile up at Vecchio, Kowalski sank deeper into the cushions. Fraser's mouth snapped closed and he strode over to stand behind the chair. Looking up, Kowalski could see Fraser's hand cupping Vecchio's jaw. For a moment, their eyes met.

"Are you—sure you don't mind?" Fraser asked him. He shook his head, not trusting his voice not to be as shaky as Fraser's.

Fraser took a deep breath, leaned in and kissed Vecchio. Kowalski felt the body over his quivering, slipped his hands under the soft, thick sweater to skim light fingertips over muscle and bone. Up to rub circles around Vecchio's nipples, down to tease the top button on his pants. And the sweater was definitely in the way now.

When the kiss broke for air, Vecchio's hands were white-knuckled on the back of the chair where he'd braced himself and Kowalski had pushed up Vecchio's sweater and begun sucking at his collarbone. Behind him, Fraser made this _sound_ and suddenly Kowalski had help with the whole stripping-Vecchio issue.

"You wanna see me fuck him, Fraser?" Kowalski rasped against Vecchio's skin. "You like that?"

"Ray," Fraser moaned.

He bit lightly at Vecchio's shoulder. "That's what I thought."

"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Vecchio, sounding just a little too blissed-out to be believable.

"You can't tell me you weren't asking for it," Kowalski said, cupping Vecchio through his pants. Nice handful. He gave Vecchio a little squeeze before setting to work on his fly. One of Fraser's hands was wrapped around Vecchio's and the other was pulling him close, picking up where Kowalski'd left off with Vecchio's shoulder and mouthing his way up Vecchio's neck.

Vecchio's boxers were cotton, nothing so countrified as long-johns. Kowalski'd expected silk, snappy dresser like that; but he vaguely thought Vecchio'd been to Canada with Fraser before and so maybe he knew there was the risk of freezing his balls off. Whatever. Kowalski pushed it all down until Vecchio got the message and reluctantly separated his face from Fraser's, climbing off the chair.

"Well?" he asked, looking ridiculous, half bent over with his pants mostly off.

"Huh?" Kowalski replied intelligently just before Fraser took hold of his shirt and tugged it over his head in one smooth pull. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know Fraser's amused smile matched Vecchio's and it was kind of unclear who was double-teaming who. Instead, Kowalski wriggled out of the rest of his clothes. Fuck, that felt good; he was harder than he'd thought. He started fishing around in the cushions.

"What are you doing, Ray?" Fraser asked—Kowalski, presumably, because it was fairly clear that Vecchio was straddling Kowalski's lap again.

"Finding the lube."

There was mild reproach in Fraser's voice. "I thought we agreed that it ought to be put away after use so as to be more easily locatable in future instances."

"I'm locating it just fine, see?" Kowalski held up the tube. "And don't tell me you're disappointed here."

"Well, no, I c-can't say that I am."

Fraser's fingers had somehow ended up in Vecchio's mouth and were sliding wetly in and out. Kowalski rubbed a slick finger behind Vecchio's balls, circled his hole and pushed in, grinning as Vecchio bucked and cussed him out through Fraser's fingers. He returned to Vecchio's nipples because that had gone well the last time around. With his free hand, Kowalski massaged the knobs of Vecchio's spine. He slipped in another finger, stretching and feeling around and whoa, suddenly Vecchio was six inches closer, hard cock trapped against his stomach. Smooth skin, smelled like wool and the wind, tasted like sweat. His wandering hand met Fraser's; they were kissing again. They were making _noises_ , groans Kowalski could feel in Vecchio's chest and Fraser's breathy grunts that had him out of his skull because he couldn't _see_ him, couldn't touch him and he was so turned on he felt like he was gonna die before he came.

Kowalski grabbed the base of his cock after he slicked himself and tried for a few deep breaths.

"C'mon, Vecchio," he panted, "I'm gonna fuck you now."

And _god_ , did that feel good to say. Better than Vecchio pressed against him. _Fuck_ Vecchio. Hell yes. He felt Fraser reach out and steady Vecchio as he slid down onto Kowalski's lap, rubbing against Kowalski's dick.

"God," Vecchio echoed his thought. "Do it, do it already."

With a moan that felt like it came from six inches past his toes, Kowalski thrust in. Fuck, that was... "Fuck," he breathed. Helplessly, he thrust into the tight heat. Vecchio sank down into it, throwing his head back and clutching Kowalski's shoulders, the chair, Fraser, anything he could get his hands on. For his part, Kowalski sucked marks on Vecchio's exposed neck. Fraser was probably a bad influence, but Kowalski had always had an oral fixation when it came to sex. It worked for him, though. The sounds Vecchio was making were absolutely pornographic.

"Enjoying...nnh...the show, Benny?" Vecchio panted. He raised himself on his knees and slammed down again, seating himself deeper on Kowalski's cock and arching with every thrust like it was live voltage. Kowalski closed his eyes and just breathed, lost in Vecchio's rhythm.

" _Ray._ " Fraser's voice was low and strangled-sounding.

"That's our name," Kowalski agreed.

"Sure it is, _Stanley_ ," gasped Vecchio and god, how could this man still be so annoying with Kowalski's dick up his ass? It defied comprehension. Kowalski pulled him down harder and _that_ shut him up, along with Kowalski's hand on his cock, pumping it hard and fast.

"Look at me, Ray," Fraser commanded Vecchio. "I want—I want to see you come."

And that did it. Vecchio shot with a low cry that ripped itself from his throat, the muscles of his ass clamping down on Kowalski and pulling him over the edge in a burst of light like the sun after six months of darkness.

Once the world came back into focus, Kowalski pulled out, settling back into the armchair's cushy depths. He regarded his sticky fingers thoughtfully. Darting a heavy-lidded look at Vecchio, he brought one to his mouth and started sucking, only to find a firm grip taking control of his hand and redirecting it to Fraser's mouth. The sensory overload nearly stopped his heart. Warm, wet...Kowalski's brain promptly dissolved back into a puddle of mush.

"Trying to say something?" Vecchio asked, languidly disentangling himself from Kowalski, who made a small, unhappy noise of protest at the loss of all that warm skin.

Vecchio took hold of Fraser's hands and tugged him out from behind the chair. It was Kowalski's turn to watch now as they kissed, long and sweet. Fumbling lazily with Fraser's buttons, Vecchio moulded himself to Fraser like the strip of cork on one of those metal rulers.

Slowly, Vecchio sank to his knees, smiling this little smile into Fraser's stomach. He pulled out Fraser's erection and Kowalski had only the briefest glimpse of his lips closing over the head before the view was blocked by the flannel shirt hanging from Fraser's wrists. Fraser's hands moved up Vecchio's shoulders and neck, exploring the curve of his skull, the topography of his face.

Fraser was sweaty and gasping and too perfect not to touch. Kowalski slithered behind him and buried his face in the flannel-covered small of Fraser's back. Sneakily, Kowalski coaxed first one of Fraser's hands, then the other out of the shirt's sleeves. Then he yanked down Fraser's pants and underwear. Still no reaction. Well, that'd change soon enough. Kowalski bit Fraser's ass.

"Oh, my," Fraser started babbling as Kowalski licked his way inwards from the bite. "Oh, god, oh, fuck, oh _Ray_."

Kowalski brushed the hole with his tongue, tracing circles around it, then pushed in. He stroked reassuringly back up Fraser's trembling thighs. When his hand encountered Vecchio's planted on Fraser's hip, it paused briefly to pinch the back before continuing to brace on Fraser's ribs, curling fingertips a little around the curving edge.

He could feel the uneven gasping of Fraser's breath, the little spasmodic jerks that meant the end was near. Bet an acorn to an oak tree that Kowalski's grip and Vecchio's were the only things keeping Fraser upright. Kowalski couldn't tell whether they were pushing or pulling Fraser back and forth between them, but he could feel it too when Vecchio swallowed because Fraser jerked and came with a moan that went right to Kowalski's hardening cock.

Kowalski wrapped his arms around Fraser and rested his cheek against his lower back until Fraser's knees buckled and they all slumped to the floor in a tangled, somewhat sticky mess.

"Well, I—" Fraser opened his mouth to say after a few minutes, as Kowalski had known he would. But he was prepared and smothered whatever it was with a long kiss. They would argue about this, Kowalski was sure, but not until he was dressed and had more than two brain cells to rub together. Besides, Fraser needed to learn how to enjoy an afterglow.


End file.
